This is the opening for a novel I am about 2/3 done with. I have created a WIP website as well. More of the story is posted on the website if you care to read on, in addition to maps and concept drawings. The website is listed in "press releases" and on "what are you working on right now."
Obviously the flow of the writing needs to be critiqued but the most important thing I want to know is, do you want to read on??
For those who have seen me Chronning these last 2 years, now you know the origin of my odd screen name.
Thanks!
Chapter 1 –Near Miscarriage
Xaviera woke up in pain. Last night’s mild aches she had attributed to the stretching and shifting of the start of her third trimester. Something was definitely wrong now though. Her abdomen was cramping, and her lower back was throbbing. She tried to ignore it, but the pain came in waves every 15 minutes or so. Each wave was more painful than the last until the tightness became almost paralyzing.
“Something is wrong.” She muttered to herself, still half asleep.
“What?” Heijan responded. He was surprisingly alert for 3:30 in the morning.
“Something’s wrong.” As she heard her own words they became more real. “Something’s wrong, something’s wrong!” She was almost screaming now and becoming panicked.
Heijan turned on the light. He was focused and serious, yet quite calm considering the circumstances. He gently laid his hand on her belly and slowly pulled the sheets down past her hips. Before he saw between her legs, an awful odor wafted up to his nose.
Xaviera smelt it too. Laying prone, she couldn’t see beyond her belly, so she stared at Heijan’s face waiting for a reaction to confirm the inevitable.
Heijan winced, but barely. He was focused on the blood-soaked shorts and sheets that were before him. His gaze remained focused and stern though. He lifted his head and stared out the window. He puckered his lips slightly as he clenched his jaw a few times. 4 seconds of Heijan’s thought felt like 4 hours to Xaviera, but his focus finally returned from the 300 miles of sprawling city lights beyond the window and back into the bedroom.
“Lay back down for a minute.” He said as he gathered the sheets into a bundle that hid the blood, then threw them off the bed. He ran to the closet and returned with an armful of clean sheets. He wrapped her hips and legs very carefully with a towel and then with a bedsheet. He then scooped her up under the arm and legs. With surprising ease, he picked up her pregnant body and moved smoothly through the tight angular spaces of the ante-room and into his office. His face remained calm and focused as he placed her squarely in his desk chair. Then, unexpectedly, he hopped on the back of the chair, his feet on the hover-base and his arms on the armrests with his hands on the controls.
Xaviera knew that Heijan had made some modifications to their cheap, off the shelf, office desk chair, but with over 300 pounds of weight not very evenly distributed, the chair remained stable and centered, and barely dipped and rose as he piloted it swiftly around the tight corners and doorways of the master suite. He then turned left down the main hallway.
“Where are you going?” she asked, with an unfair bit of anger.
“We’re taking my skiff.” He responded almost before she had finished her question.
Annoying, but fair enough. She was obviously not driving to the hospital and Heijan would feel more comfortable in his own skiff on the winding hilly roadways that connected the Black Flats with Pota-Mei proper. She expected him to veer right at the end of the hallway and into the dining room, so they could go out the large panorama doors, but he lined the chair up for a full speed turn down the angled staircase. She gasped as they approached the first step, but he hugged the left rail at the landing, swiveled around so they were now leaning backwards down the stairs, and swung wide around the corner, angling slightly into the turn. They landed smoothly and before Xaviera could even process what happened they were turned back around and heading right of the staircase and out the mudroom door which, frighteningly, was already open.
“Had he programmed the chair to control the entire house?” She thought. She wanted to ask how, when, where, and with what materials he was able to retro-fit this cheap piece of furniture. A sharp jolt of pain in her lower back and pelvis interjected though.
“You don’t have the strength or resolve to dig for these answers right now,” the pain said. She acquiesced and returned to the moment. “Honor the moment.” Was the mantra her mother would always stress. Now it was more important than ever. They continued out of the mud room door towards the garage. Heijan swiveled around again so they were moving backwards.
The backyard was on her left and separated from the path to the garage by about a 10-foot-high retaining wall. The house was geometric, with large masses intersecting at odd angles and flat roofs overlapping at different levels. The house was well lit on every side, especially in front. The up-lighting in the front yard glowed around a dark silhouette of the outline of the building. The back yard up-lighting created a softer glow, and a bizarre array of interweaving shadows and highlights within that silhouette. The windows were chemically treated so they were black from the outside and reflected no light. Xaviera had never seen her own home from this angle and at this time of day, (if she was ever outside at night it was on the patio). It looked more like a haunted military bunker than a private home. She was a bit disconcerted to know that this is what her husband loved to see every day when he came home from work.
This visual was probably more troubling than Heijan’s odd hours, unusual strength, and peculiar furniture engineering skills. But not more troubling than the vaginal pain that shocked her back into the present.
“Honor the moment.”
They arrived in the garage loft, whose door was already open. Xaviera had not been out to the garage in years. She always assumed it was a simple tool storage shed with a stairway down to the skiff-port below. There was no longer a stairway, or even a loft for that matter. Heijan had apparently expanded the upper level of the garage to span its entire length. There was now a mechanical lift fixed to a large beam in the roof above. It looked like it was meant to carry a rather heavy load.
“Why would Heijan need such equipment?” Xaviera thought. She saw a large L-shaped work bench in the near left corner of the “loft,” with a bunch of small, intricate, and unrecognizable tools scattered about it.
“That must the operating table be where this chair was re-born.” She thought.
Heijan piloted the chair across a cluttered floor and over to the lift. Xaviera caught a brief glimpse into the door of a small adjacent room. It was dimly lit with dark green light. She thought she saw a pile of dirt filling half the room and a table with a large glass tank. The tank was filled with a clear, viscous liquid and a small object that looked not much different from a volcanic rock, but it seemed to move and…
“Ouch!” Sharp pain down left side of lower back, buttocks, vagina and belly. The pains were getting more intense.
Heijan locked the chair into the lift and pressed a button on the chair, or maybe on the lift, and they were slowly lowered to the skiff-port. The port itself was more or less as Xaviera remembered it from four years ago, except for two large hydraulic arms holding what looked like aircraft turbines. At this point she wondered if they would be driving, boating, or flying to the hospital. Or maybe he had a robot obstetric ward in the garden.
Obviously the flow of the writing needs to be critiqued but the most important thing I want to know is, do you want to read on??
For those who have seen me Chronning these last 2 years, now you know the origin of my odd screen name.
Thanks!
Chapter 1 –Near Miscarriage
Xaviera woke up in pain. Last night’s mild aches she had attributed to the stretching and shifting of the start of her third trimester. Something was definitely wrong now though. Her abdomen was cramping, and her lower back was throbbing. She tried to ignore it, but the pain came in waves every 15 minutes or so. Each wave was more painful than the last until the tightness became almost paralyzing.
“Something is wrong.” She muttered to herself, still half asleep.
“What?” Heijan responded. He was surprisingly alert for 3:30 in the morning.
“Something’s wrong.” As she heard her own words they became more real. “Something’s wrong, something’s wrong!” She was almost screaming now and becoming panicked.
Heijan turned on the light. He was focused and serious, yet quite calm considering the circumstances. He gently laid his hand on her belly and slowly pulled the sheets down past her hips. Before he saw between her legs, an awful odor wafted up to his nose.
Xaviera smelt it too. Laying prone, she couldn’t see beyond her belly, so she stared at Heijan’s face waiting for a reaction to confirm the inevitable.
Heijan winced, but barely. He was focused on the blood-soaked shorts and sheets that were before him. His gaze remained focused and stern though. He lifted his head and stared out the window. He puckered his lips slightly as he clenched his jaw a few times. 4 seconds of Heijan’s thought felt like 4 hours to Xaviera, but his focus finally returned from the 300 miles of sprawling city lights beyond the window and back into the bedroom.
“Lay back down for a minute.” He said as he gathered the sheets into a bundle that hid the blood, then threw them off the bed. He ran to the closet and returned with an armful of clean sheets. He wrapped her hips and legs very carefully with a towel and then with a bedsheet. He then scooped her up under the arm and legs. With surprising ease, he picked up her pregnant body and moved smoothly through the tight angular spaces of the ante-room and into his office. His face remained calm and focused as he placed her squarely in his desk chair. Then, unexpectedly, he hopped on the back of the chair, his feet on the hover-base and his arms on the armrests with his hands on the controls.
Xaviera knew that Heijan had made some modifications to their cheap, off the shelf, office desk chair, but with over 300 pounds of weight not very evenly distributed, the chair remained stable and centered, and barely dipped and rose as he piloted it swiftly around the tight corners and doorways of the master suite. He then turned left down the main hallway.
“Where are you going?” she asked, with an unfair bit of anger.
“We’re taking my skiff.” He responded almost before she had finished her question.
Annoying, but fair enough. She was obviously not driving to the hospital and Heijan would feel more comfortable in his own skiff on the winding hilly roadways that connected the Black Flats with Pota-Mei proper. She expected him to veer right at the end of the hallway and into the dining room, so they could go out the large panorama doors, but he lined the chair up for a full speed turn down the angled staircase. She gasped as they approached the first step, but he hugged the left rail at the landing, swiveled around so they were now leaning backwards down the stairs, and swung wide around the corner, angling slightly into the turn. They landed smoothly and before Xaviera could even process what happened they were turned back around and heading right of the staircase and out the mudroom door which, frighteningly, was already open.
“Had he programmed the chair to control the entire house?” She thought. She wanted to ask how, when, where, and with what materials he was able to retro-fit this cheap piece of furniture. A sharp jolt of pain in her lower back and pelvis interjected though.
“You don’t have the strength or resolve to dig for these answers right now,” the pain said. She acquiesced and returned to the moment. “Honor the moment.” Was the mantra her mother would always stress. Now it was more important than ever. They continued out of the mud room door towards the garage. Heijan swiveled around again so they were moving backwards.
The backyard was on her left and separated from the path to the garage by about a 10-foot-high retaining wall. The house was geometric, with large masses intersecting at odd angles and flat roofs overlapping at different levels. The house was well lit on every side, especially in front. The up-lighting in the front yard glowed around a dark silhouette of the outline of the building. The back yard up-lighting created a softer glow, and a bizarre array of interweaving shadows and highlights within that silhouette. The windows were chemically treated so they were black from the outside and reflected no light. Xaviera had never seen her own home from this angle and at this time of day, (if she was ever outside at night it was on the patio). It looked more like a haunted military bunker than a private home. She was a bit disconcerted to know that this is what her husband loved to see every day when he came home from work.
This visual was probably more troubling than Heijan’s odd hours, unusual strength, and peculiar furniture engineering skills. But not more troubling than the vaginal pain that shocked her back into the present.
“Honor the moment.”
They arrived in the garage loft, whose door was already open. Xaviera had not been out to the garage in years. She always assumed it was a simple tool storage shed with a stairway down to the skiff-port below. There was no longer a stairway, or even a loft for that matter. Heijan had apparently expanded the upper level of the garage to span its entire length. There was now a mechanical lift fixed to a large beam in the roof above. It looked like it was meant to carry a rather heavy load.
“Why would Heijan need such equipment?” Xaviera thought. She saw a large L-shaped work bench in the near left corner of the “loft,” with a bunch of small, intricate, and unrecognizable tools scattered about it.
“That must the operating table be where this chair was re-born.” She thought.
Heijan piloted the chair across a cluttered floor and over to the lift. Xaviera caught a brief glimpse into the door of a small adjacent room. It was dimly lit with dark green light. She thought she saw a pile of dirt filling half the room and a table with a large glass tank. The tank was filled with a clear, viscous liquid and a small object that looked not much different from a volcanic rock, but it seemed to move and…
“Ouch!” Sharp pain down left side of lower back, buttocks, vagina and belly. The pains were getting more intense.
Heijan locked the chair into the lift and pressed a button on the chair, or maybe on the lift, and they were slowly lowered to the skiff-port. The port itself was more or less as Xaviera remembered it from four years ago, except for two large hydraulic arms holding what looked like aircraft turbines. At this point she wondered if they would be driving, boating, or flying to the hospital. Or maybe he had a robot obstetric ward in the garden.
